Oh, come with old Khayyám, and leave the Wise
To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies;
One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies;
The Flower that once blown for ever dies.
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,
End in the Nothing all Things end in - Yes -
Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what
Thou shalt be - Nothing - though shalt not be less.
If you can prove to me that one miracle took place, I will believe he is a just God who damned us all because a woman ate an apple.
Edward FitzGerald« first previous
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